[Dialogue] A Story

[Jo Nelson]

Although this story is not directly about Mark Poole, it is my strongest
association with him.  I've written it to be read to a larger audience at
the wake, if you like, Mike, but it may be more about other events than
Mark, so I won't be upset if you don't read it.  It just catalyzed the act
of telling the story.

In April, 1977, Mark and Jean came to Bayad, Beni Suef, Egypt.

We had left our toddler son, Aaron, in the US with dear friends and
colleagues when we first went to do community development in Bayad in
September 1976, because we didn't have clean water and a safe place to live
at first.  In the village, however, we were know as "Om Haroon" (Mother of
Aaron) and "Abu Haroon" (Father of Aaron), as most people were known by the
name of their oldest son.

We were far from phone lines and instant communication in the village, but
we knew someone was coming to join us in a few weeks.  On a hot, dusty
afternoon, I was on my way to Cairo to do some business, and we had decided
that when I got to Cairo I would send a telex to the US to ask to have Aaron
sent with the people coming, because we now had clean water, a safe place to
live, and a preschool that he could attend.   Wayne was not feeling well
that day, and was home in bed.

I walked the two kilometres down to the riverbank, and got on a felucca to
cross the Nile to get to the taxis in Beni Suef. The air was hot, heavy, and
full of sand, and I was nervous about traveling alone to Cairo.  In the
middle of the river, I was sitting with my head down, thinking about all I
had to do, when suddenly I heard my name being called -- in English -- "Jo!
Jo Nelson!"

I turned around and saw, there on a felucca coming from the other side, Mark
and Jean Poole and a small, round, white, blond and blue-eyed child!  I
jumped up in the boat, crying "Ebni, ebni -- my son, my son!"  Both boatmen
knew that I was Om Haroon and that this must be Haroon, and they pulled the
boats together in the middle of the Nile, and I jumped ship and went back
towards Bayad.  

Aaron was 22 months at the time, and hadn't seen us since he was 14 months.
He was sitting on Jean's lap, and calling her "mommy", since he had been
traveling with them for a week or so to get to Bayad.

I quickly arranged a taxi to carry us and all the gear to our house in the
veterinary clinic.  Along the way, Aaron still sat on Jean's lap.  I winked
at him.  He winked back!  By the time we got to the house, he came to my
arms and called me "mommy".  Then he started asking, "where da-da?"
As we went up the steps, he asked about every man he saw.  When I got to our
room, Wayne got out of bed in his galabaya.  I said, "there's daddy".  Aaron
hid his head.  I said, "Quick, Wayne, put on a pair of pants."  Wayne did,
and Aaron said "Dada!" and went right to him.

Mark and Jean brought a thoughtful, healing, calming sense to the staff in
Bayad, and helped us through a number of crises.

But I will never forget the care with which they reunited our family.

Jo Nelson 
-- 
Jo Nelson, CPF  <jnelson at ica-associates.ca>
ICA Associates, Inc.  655 Queen Street East, Toronto, ON M4M 1G4
Ph. 416-691-2316, x230  Toll-free 877-691-1422  Fax 416-691-2491
Website <ica-associates.ca>

"Never doubt that a small group of committed people cannot change the world.
Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."  Margaret Mead